“Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi”… A great historical character is dully recreated in a by-the-numbers epic

Why can’t we make better cinema about the great, cinema-ready personalities who fought the British in the nineteenth century? This isn’t just about Ketan Mehta’s Mangal Pandey, which careened uneasily between one man’s personal agenda and a country’s political consciousness. There’s also Sohrab Modi’s excruciatingly prosaic Jhansi Ki Rani (1953), with Mehtab playing the queen. That film, too, attempted to conflate the regional and the national, the past and the present. A title card, at the beginning, proclaimed: “Dedicated to those men and women who fought and died so that other men and women live in freedom.” But sometimes, it’s just better to scale back and tell an individual’s story. And what better story than that of Rani Lakshmibai, of whom the older film’s antagonist, General Sir Hugh Rose, V.C., wrote in his diary, “And she was the bravest and the best man on the side of the mutineers.”

And what better actress to play this “man” than Kangana Ranaut, who has made a career out of raising the heroine’s profile to that of a hero! Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi introduces its protagonist like the leading man of a legend, like “The One”. A voiceover booms that she was born when there was evil all around, and we learn that she is destined to have her name scribbled across the pages of history. From the infant, we cut straight to the adult Manikarnika (she became Lakshmibai after marriage), who saves a village from a tiger that terrorises it. Later, during a mock sword fight, she single-handedly takes on three men — behind this action, we see three women sitting on the ground and (as Veeru says in Sholay) chakki peesing and peesing… That is what the rest of the women of the time, apparently, were destined for, unlike Manikarnika.

The ingredients are all there. Intrigue in the palace corridors. More intrigue in the form of a husband who wears a bangle. (This is the raja of Jhansi. At first, I wondered if this king might be… a queen.) And best of all, the unspeakably evil Captain Gordon (Edward Sonnenblick), who comes off like Mogambo and Shakaal time-machined back to the Raj era and made a baby. It appears that the film wants to tell its patriotic story in the masala format, the way Raj Kumar Santoshi did so gloriously in The Legend of Bhagat Singh. But alas, in one of many inscrutable writing decisions, Captain Gordon is killed off during the course of a song. Yes, after all the teeth-gnashing and moustache-twirling, he doesn’t even get a proper death scene. Imagine Gabbar Singh being elbowed off a cliff by Samba as Basanti is dancing on broken glass. It’s something like that.

Manikarnika is all ingredients. There’s no cook. Technically, of course, there are two: Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi and Kangana Ranaut. But there’s very little in the film that looks “directed”. It’s just a dull series of events, with duller dialogues (by Prasoon Joshi). When Manikarnika’s marriage is arranged, an elder says: “Yeh rishta aapke aur mere liye nahin hai. Maatrubhumi ke liye hai.” (This alliance is for the motherland.) That’s what needs to be said, but surely not how you expect it to be said, coming from the man behind the blazing lyrics of Rang De Basanti. A bigger surprise is that the story-screenplay is by KV Vijayendra Prasad, who wrote textbook masala movies like Eega, Bajrangi Bhaijaan and the Baahubali installments.

Characters like Jhalkaribai (Ankita Lokhande) and Sangram Singh (Taher Shabbir) come and go as they please. No one gets anything close to a graph. It’s the same with the scenes: the one where Manikarnika refuses to wear the garb of a widow, or the one where women are recruited into the army, or the one where the “good Muslim” character dies. They just don’t build. They just don’t explode. Instead, the film relies on cannon after cannon being set off. But even in these war scenes, the geography is confusing and the editing has no sweep. Compare the stretch where Lakshmibai battles assailants in order to save her young son with the similar sequence in Bajirao Mastani, and you’ll see the difference between a wannabe and a visionary. Even the cinematography is flat. The frames seem to be out of a well-lit jewellery commercial.

Is this mess-up the result of the famous behind-the-scenes trouble between actress and director, which now appears to have been a war on par with the one on screen? There are certainly indications that Manikarnika is something of a vanity project for its heroine. When Lakshmibai charges out of her fort and battles the British amidst exploding cannons and the sand kicked up by the hooves of horses, her face remains untouched by mud or ash, and her lipstick remains indestructible. What about the performance, you ask? It’s a full-throated one — quite literally so. After the death of a loved one, Kangana opens her mouth so wide in anguish that we fear we’re about to catch a glimpse of the royal epiglottis. We see not a bereaved mother but an actress throwing the kitchen sink at us. You want to applaud. But first, you want to duck.

Bachchan’s voice—the go-to guy for voice-overs since 1969—majestically looms over the historical introduction of the British coming to India with dishonest intentions and taking over the Indian provinces, one by one, until they lay their eyes on Jhansi, and face the biggest pain and obstacle as documented by Field Marshal Hugh Rose, in the form of Rani Laxmibai, a.k.a. Manikarnika, fondly called Mani. The camera then swoops to a regal looking Kanika in a teal-colored saree holding a bow and an arrow to shoot a tiger that’s feeding on the livestock of villagers near Bithoor. She’s caressingly shot in slow-motion and majestically at that, almost frame-fitting Kangana in a regal Raja Ravi Verma school of painting. The shooting scene looks staged, the tiger looks fake, but Kangana’s Mani looks like an applause-worthy combination of regal and real: It’s then, that it should hit you, that this is going be a Kangana vehicle throughout. The speed with which she’s introduced right within the first reel is another clear-cut indication of what we are about to see.

I love period films. And the Rani of Jhansi was/is a perennial favourite. I really, really wished to enjoy this film, Kangana notwithstanding. I was annoyed by her typecasting (as the angst-ridden fallen heroine), grew to admire her craft and now find myself back to being annoyed. But oh, the actual Rani of Jhansi deserved more than this hackneyed telling. Sure, Kangana did a fine job of the actual performance, but the movie was nothing more than a glorification – not of the character, but of the heroine. Even my Amar Chitra Katha comic had a better narrative arc.

But then that’s what happens when you take over a directorial vision, allegedly reduce all your supporting characters to one-note, two-scenes, and glorify yourself at the expense of the film.

(And honestly, I’m tired of her evoking ‘What about Aamir Khan?’ when asked about her taking on this directorial project. For Taare Zameen Par , Aamir offered to leave the project since he didn’t see eye to eye with Amole Gupte’s vision. Or he offered to star in it with a different director. Amole chose the latter. (Even if he whined about it after the film released successfully.) Aamir did not hijack the project as Krish (and Sonu and Mishti) claims Kangana did. And honestly, after watching Stanley ka Dabba, I can see why Aamir didn’t gel with Amole’s vision.)

My god… you write so much. As an audience I immensely like the movie. Though I m a film Appreciation professor but I don’t understand why you critic tear a piece of work like. Did you ever made a movie or being a part of direction and script writing… if you u can tear an art work like this it is really not done. I m not a kangana fan but certainly u can’t beat her performance acting.. i watched twice and both the time audience was clapping in the cinema hall.

If Sanjay leela bansali after his 12th movie he playing with historical characters and give Ranveer Singh huge space in padmavat, the Ashok shahrukh khan as Ashok dancing with villahe girl kaurvaki..

that’s hilarious. reminds of the movie Vivah (starring Shahid Kapoor)…towards the climax, there is a fire accident and the girl is said to have suffered some serious injury but her face remained, as you said, “indestructible”. The movie was terrible, one-dimensional.

Fantastic fantastic review Brangan. You nailed my thoughts to the last word. Especially this

Why can’t we make better cinema about the great, cinema-ready personalities who fought the British in the nineteenth century?

I was asking the question when I was watching this dull movie and continued to ask it even after I have finished it

I love kangana as an actress and I think she’s the best of her generation, but this performance didn’t work for me. She is more good at playing the nuances, the subtleties. This is such a broad performance, her weak voice breaks most of the time when she has to deliver those loud rousing speeches and her face goes totally expressionless maybe due to the pressure of delivering them

She might have done more damage behind the camera seeing those scenes of Mohammed zeeshan ayub who replaced Sonu sood. Scenes look staged like from a school play with sadashiv surrounded by britishers.

I love reading your reviews. This is my first time commenting because this is the first time I have read your review to see your dislike for the main actor shining through, especially in the last paragraph. I am no Kangana fan or admirer, just a disclaimer if that sort of thing is necessary. I am not saying you have to like her or her off-screen antics but to shine that dislike for an actor in a film review? The film is about Manikarnika, and obviously, her trajectory will be emphasized and stressed, hence, from a ‘story’s’ perspective, it makes sense for the actor to be everywhere. The character indeed is the ‘hero’. I do not see ‘vanity project’. Worried about details like her makeup not getting messed up in battle? Would you have said similar things in a Salman Khan or Akshay Kumar film? Certainly, Kangana is not comparable to those actors in terms of box office or star power, but nonetheless, my two cents.

Anu is right about Kangana invoking Aamir. As I always say, there is the case of the lead star interfering and making a product better and the case they interfere and make it worse. Aamirs case is the former, kangana’s is the latter. And Aamir wasn’t cutting down every other character to make his role prominent, he kept the essence of the story intact keeping the kids character the lead protagonist and himself the supporting player

It was in bad taste. to steal the credit from a director who set up the overall scale and vision for the project, worked on it for 2 years and shot 109 days of the film and turned in his final edit of the film.even if it was Co credit, he should have gotten top billing. Looks like Kangana has a problem with all the Krishs of the world 😀

xyz: There was a film I pointed out that the hero’s bandage was placed strategically, so it wouldn’t mar the face. I forget the hero and the film now. Will put it up if I remember.

About “your dislike for the main actor shining through,”

I don’t dislike her at all. But that’s different from saying I like her in everything. Here are some writings about Kangana, the first one is a mixed review of the performance and the second if far more positive.

SIMRAN

Praful is a fabulous fuckup, and Ranaut plays these scenes so beautifully, so unapologetically, you want to shake Praful’s shoulders and make her see sense – if you could summon up the guts to approach her. This is a hugely enjoyable performance. It’s vain, narcissistic, it oftens bleeds over the character and into real life (but then I already told you that) – it’s also filled with a singular kind of energy. Watching Praful win big at baccarat and blow up the money on a dress or a gift (earlier, we’ve been told she’s a “pukki Gujarati,” who’s careful with money) is among the most fun I’ve had at the movies this year.

KATTI BATTI

We think things are getting way too serious for Payal, who just wanted a “time-pass” relationship. But now, we see why she reacted the way she did. Kangana plays this scene well. Whatever little pleasure there is in Katti Batti comes from watching her. She has great instincts – she’s always a second or two off with whatever she’s doing, she catches you unawares. She affects the most unusual inflections in her line readings. And she’s completely comfortable with her body. It all adds up to a singular screen presence. The way she lights up after coming home and setting eyes on Milkha – you could rub your hands over that look on a cold night. I first kept thinking she deserved better. But without the likes of her, how would we ever make it through these bad movies?

I remembered making a comment about the need for women to take the initiative for getting better roles. So, when the early reviews mentioned about Kangana co-directing this movie, I decided to watch it. There was a card ‘Blessed by Sadhguru’ at the beginning of the movie. I suppose this ‘blessing’ is mainly responsible for the propagandic elements of this movie.
Beginning with the umpteen ‘Mathrubumi’ and ‘Swa-dharma’ references to ending with the image of Kangana disappearing into a ‘Om’, the movie has a thorough ‘Strategic propanganda placement’ in place. The ‘Good Muslims’ are the ones who chant ‘Har Har Mahadev’ in public while restricting their ‘religious behavior’ to within the walls of their homes and mosques. It is essential for the ‘villains’ to be vanquished inside the church. And of course the caste divisions within the Hindu society needs to be whitewashed.
I am bit disappointed that BR doesn’t raise this issue of ‘othering’ when it happens to other groups like Christians while never failing to mention in case it happens to brahmins.

@vinjk
Agreed that there is no NEED for BR to talk about othering in films. But when a reviewer notices and writes about the othering EACH time when it happens to one particular group, it is surprising that he never notices it when it happens to other groups.

At last a logic filled, well written review! It is sad to see history reduced to caricature and people praising, dignity defeating dishonest practices and mediocrity in that ego filled vanity project called Manikarnika; the movie, in particular when everyone knows the country is capable of much better… or is it?

Was finally able to catch this movie last night after a snowstorm kept me away on my first attempt last week. Manikarnika is possibly one of the worst movies I’ve watched in a theater, and honestly, after seeing the promos, I wasn’t expecting anything different. But I’ve been riveted by Kangana Ranaut since watching her determined to stuff her cardigan into a handbag up on a nightclub counter; she and Donald Glover are the only two people who can convince me to watch anything for their presence alone.

Enough hasn’t been said about the sheer awfulness of the performances in this movie — I’ve seen better acting in high school plays. To be fair, the actors weren’t exactly working off great material. In any case, I’m flummoxed that two people would be arguing over credit for directing this nightmare. (After seeing the Sonu Sood clip making the rounds on the interwebs, I have to assume Krish had an even worse product to offer, and will withhold judgment on KR’s direction skills until she comes out with a solo project.) I’m all for a superhero reimagining of Rani Lakshmibai, but the movie kept vacillating between this interpretation and a standard period drama. To paraphrase Ron Swanson, don’t half-ass two things when you can whole-ass one thing. Sigh.

The Indian costumes were magnificent though, and I could barely focus on one of the Sadashivrao scenes because of that gorgeous black angarkha Zeeshan Ayyub was rocking. My husband, who is a history buff, especially when it comes to military history, almost busted an aneurysm at the British costumes though (and the battle scenes made him want to weep). Also, is it so hard to find good British actors, even if they’re only playing cartoon villains? (Sidebar: we spotted Indian, American, and German accents among the Brits — hey, don’t judge me, you gotta do something to entertain yourself so you’re not pulling a muscle from the non-stop cringing.)

But even so, I’ll do it with a smile if it means I can watch you perform, Kangana.

Varsha, I’ve given up expecting historical accuracy in any ‘historical’. Really. And I admired Kangana as an actor – her turn in Queen was fabulous. But honestly, in Manikarnika there were so many scenes where I wanted to smack my forehead and wonder whether she had botoxed the hell out of herself. There was not a single expression on that pretty face.

As for the directorial credit, I think the point is that, good or bad, don’t take away the credit for someone else’s hard work.

And with Kangana, this seems to have been a modus operandi all along. Even the idea/research etc., behind Manikarnika was Ketan Mehta’s. And no one batted an eyelid when Apurva Asrani slammed her for taking his writing credit for Simran. She went on Aap ki Adalat and claimed he couldn’t write for toffee. Well, the chap wrote Aligarh and is a national award-winning editor.

What’s worse, as far as I am concerned, is that she always provokes a controversy just about when her film is releasing – and then plays victim.

Actually, I take that back about her performance – I think Kangana’s best performances are off-screen.

Re: Kangana’s performance – yes, she was good in parts. And where she was good, she was excellent. Zeeshan Ayub had too little screen space to make any impact really. I mean, they had a whole cast of excellent actors – Danny, Atul Kulkarni… they were wasted in roles that were so inconsequential even while the characters weren’t.

Yeah, don’t want to get discuss the controversy either. I shouldn’t have brought it up again. Just one of those things that irritate me and I was venting. That’s all.

Christ Baba Ramdev: I seemed to have completely mis-understood the basics of direction and acting here…this movie’s being mauled here; and Kangana doubly-so! Truly, really, given the scope and the way we have displayed historicals on the Indian screen; one finds this scraping the bottom of a barrel?? Unbelievable… what were you expecting here? BEN-HUR?

An Jo – Are we really supposed to take that author’s word for it that Lakshmibai was stoic and resigned? The Queen’s Last Salute is not a historical document. It is just fiction.

And not even good fiction, at that, if you go by the excerpt. This is someone who writes:

The queen resigned and allow her into the room.

Huh? Resigned from what? And ‘allow her’? The queen is now a plural?

And then this gem – but not a single crease could be seen on Lakshmibai’s forehead, who sat erect and bright-eyed.

Someone teach this woman grammar. Please.

This is someone who’s piggybacking on the Manikarnika release to publish a book. Time the book with the release of a big film and perhaps a few more people will buy it. It’s like Padmaavat – amidst all the brouhaha, there was a spate of books about Rani Padmavati. And honestly, I’m fine with that. Just write it well, and I’ll gladly buy it and read it. This one? With its bad English and less-than-stellar writing skills? Not so much.

As for Kangana, she’s a damn good actor. But there were parts when she might have wanted to convey stoicism, but what she conveyed instead was the impersonation of a marble statue. The performance was very uneven and for an actor of her calibre, very unexpected. However bad the film, one expects her to perform well.

As for the film, no, I didn’t expect Ben Hur and like I said, I don’t go to a historical expecting perfect historical accuracy – it’s a pleasant surprise when they get it right – but I do expect it to be better made. This was shoddy filmmaking, whoever directed it. And since Kangana claims to have directed over 70% of it, well, the fault lies with her. That’s all.

but not a single crease could be seen on Lakshmibai’s forehead, who sat erect and bright-eyed.

@nikkie – The subject of the qualifying clause is not Lakshmibai’s forehead. It is Lakshmibai. (I was just visualising the Queen’s forehead sitting up erect and bright-eyed. 🙂 )

And that’s where it becomes not just ‘not sounding good’ but ungrammatical. Would have made more sense to say “…but not a single crease could be seen on Lakshmibai’s forehead. She sat erect and bright-eyed.”

Of course, a good editor would have flagged these examples but, well, she wrote it.

Ouch. Thats a very tough review. I don’t agree. It’s problematic but Kangana carries the film with his screen presence and passion. I can’t forget the sword fighting in the orange saree in the end. She looks like a devi. What passion in her eyes.. Laxmibai, only 28, lost her husband and son and still bleeding, fighting for her country with her baby strapped to her.. so moved. Thank you for making this movie! Let us never forget.

Been a long-time reader of yours and am a film writer myself. Just stumbled upon this one recently and I agree with most of what you said. There is another Ranibai biopic that was made this year, in Hollywood, called “THE WARRIOR QUEEN OF JHANSI” directed by Swati Bhise. It’s definitely flawed and its lack of funding shows in the production quality, but I think its treatment of the subject is a lot more mature than the Bollywood version. I wrote a little bit about it here, see if it piques your interest: